Dreaming of a Brand New Day
by Luscious Kinney
Summary: Premise: Donald comes into the pic earlier than Potter and BJ, earlier than the 4077th... Margaret gets an almost fatal blast from her past... The first and final parts have been combined as one story. Please, if you haven't before, R+R!
1. Default Chapter

Dreaming of a Brand New Day  
  
  
I had a strange feeling that Margaret was just ignoring the two of them, that is, Frank and the new nurse, necking in the corner of the movie tent. She had the most solid poker face on I had ever seen her wear. To be honest, I was worried. I approached the seat that Frank was supposed to be in and occupied it as best I could.  
  
"Hey, hot-lips," I said, keeping a cheerful tone to my voice.  
  
"Hawkeye." She acknowledged without looking away from the screen.  
  
"Interesting movie." I started, making petty conversation. From the second I sat by her, I had the feeling that she was on to me. A chill went up my back as wind blew through a rip in the canvas. Incidentally, that rip didn't used to be in that canvas. Lets just say that Trapper and I had more "Medicinal" martinis than our civility would allow.   
  
I looked back at them, still going at it. Radar happened to be sitting by them. He was getting annoyed, as his glasses kept fogging over.  
  
"Come on, you guys!" He whined. Of course they ignored. Why would they pay attention in the throes of passion? Ick.  
  
Anyway, I was beginning to get cold, and so was Margaret, so we moved in close and even wrapped our arms around each other... for warmth.  
  
"I love the Maltese Falcon. I always wanted to be the bad girl in the movie. She always gets the hero at least once." She stated sadly.  
  
"Oh, me too." I quipped. I was happy to hear her giggle a little and see her radiant smile, but the monster was still trying to rear its ugly head. "Are you okay?" I finally asked, unable to silently acknowledge any longer.  
  
"He's doing this just to hurt me." She softly cried, "I did something that made him mad."  
  
I, being the ultimate gentleman in the face of a woman's distress, wiped an escaped tear from her cheek and whispered in her ear: "How could you make him mad? He thinks you are an angel."  
  
"I stood up for you when I knew you were right." She whispered her reply, which was in pieces. I was taken aback. Hell, I just about fell out of my seat at those words.  
  
"Hey, why don't we go to the mess tent and talk about this over an ice cold cup of coffee?"  
  
"I'll talk, but I'd rather have a stiff drink at this point." That was so unlike her. It intrigued me, so I granted her wish and we went hand in hand to the officer's club instead so we could have a drink.  
  
I noticed as we walked through the door that Radar had given up on the movie and he sat, as usual, alone at a table, nursing down a Grape Nehi. We took a table in the least crowded part of the club and sat.  
  
"Martini, please." I ordered.  
  
"Double mudslide." Margaret muttered. The bartender heard both and began working away at our mixed spirits. Radar kept looking over at the both of us, curiously, might I add, so I invited him over to sit with us. What would it hurt?  
  
"Hiya." He chirruped as he swaggered toward us.  
  
"Hey, kiddo. Why'd ya skip out on the movie? I thought it was your favorite." Margaret asked, lifting herself out of limbo. She beamed a smile at him. Those things are contagious. Pretty soon I was wearing one just from watching hers. She was beautiful. I had always noticed that. Didn't think I was ready to act upon it though.   
  
"I figured that if I couldn't see it, I didn't wanna hear it either. I also needed a drink to erase the effects of forced voyeurism." I laughed at this, for two simple facts. The first being the slur already in his voice from just one part vodka. Ah, youth. The second was because he actually knew the word voyeurism. Margaret giggled lightly and patted his head. "Thanks." He mumbled.  
  
The bartender brought Margaret and I our drinks and once Radar could get a hold of his, we toasted silently. Another tear slipped down Margaret's cheek out of pretty much nowhere.  
  
"What's eatin' at you kitten?" Radar asked, getting brave as well as drunk.  
  
She quickly wiped it away. "Nothing, I'll be fine, thank you." Margaret Houlihan couldn't even lie to a drunken teenager.   
  
I looked straight into her magnificent eyes and asked: "May I tell him? I'm sure he won't remember in the morning."  
  
"I suppose." She said with a half-smile.  
  
"Radar," I began. He looked in my opposite direction, "Hey, over here, kid.... Hi there."  
  
"Oh, hullo." He said, surprised I was sitting there.  
  
"Frank is being mean to Margaret again and she's a little put off by it."  
"Ohhh. Hey, sorry to hear that, beautiful." He got up from his place, apparently deciding he'd had enough, and kissed Margaret's forehead. He toddled out the door and toward his bunk for a good few hours sleep.  
  
"That was cute." I snickered.  
  
"That was certainly different." She added. "I'm feeling a little bit better." She said as she downed the rest of her mudslide.  
  
"He's gonna ache something awful in the morning." I pointed out. She could smell the grape syrup in his drink and from the look on her face, something was missing. She reached for his drink, took a tiny sip and began to laugh almost hysterically.  
  
"What?" I asked, startled.  
  
"It's virgin." She and I screamed with laughter. "It's a good thing you weren't specific with the little guy." She sighed happily.  
  
"It's nice to see you smile. No matter how we fight, I hate to see you upset."  
  
"You're just saying that." She blushed.  
  
"Nope." I yawned, feeling satisfied with the effects of the drink. "I'm really beat. I'm surprised I stayed up after all those casualties we had to work on."  
  
"I wish the bunks were co-ed." She blurted out.  
  
"Huh?" Now that I think back on it, I wish I had gotten that on paper.  
  
"I wish the bunks were co-ed so you could sleep beside me tonight. I don't feel like being alone, Hawkeye."  
  
"Well, if you really want me to, I can make sure Trapper knows where I am and we can go from there." I offered politely.  
  
"Thank you." She whispered. Her breath smelled of sweet Kalhua. (For those of you not in the know, Kalhua is a chocolate drink mixer.) I stood from my place first, going around the table and pulling her chair out for her. I offered her my hand and she accepted. Together, hand in hand we left the officer's club. We weren't intoxicated, which was something rather foreign to me but I got used to it.   
  
I walked her to her bunk on the way to my own. We stopped at the doorway and I flipped her hand over, lifting it to my lips, kissing the open palm.  
  
"If I am asleep when you get here, you can either go back to your bunk or wake me up. I'd really rather you'd wake me up than anything else."  
"Okay."  
  
I watched her go inside, and when the door was closed I headed for the swamp. I looked forward to sleeping somewhere warm for once. When I got there, I was aware that Trapper had gone to bed. Tonight was just getting weirder by the moment.  
  
"Hey, Trapper."  
  
"Ohuh?" He said, sleep drowned.  
  
"I'm going to stay up with Margaret tonight, just so you know where I am."  
  
At hearing the name he sat up. "You are staying up with Margaret... Why?"  
  
Frank wasn't in his bunk, so I assumed he was still with the nurse and continued.  
  
"Margaret was in tears because Frank's being a jerk again. This time he was..."  
  
"I know. Everyone saw. Poor Radar got a full frontal."  
  
"The nurse?" I asked hopefully.  
  
"No. Frank."  
  
I winced, now understanding the full extent of Radar's trauma. "Like I said, I'll be sitting up with her tonight. Nothing physical, just something to help her sleep through the night."  
  
"Okay, Hawk. I have 3 a.m. Post-op duty, so if you need me, that's where I'll be."  
  
"You're a good man, Trapper."  
  
"Eh, whatever..." He said playfully as he dozed off.  
  
I made my way back over to Margaret's tent. The light was still on, and that relieved me somewhat. I knocked, and I knocked. I even knocked some more, and I would have left, but something didn't seem right.  
  
My first intent was to open the door and to my horror it wouldn't budge. I held my breath and pressed my ear to the door.  
  
"Tell him you're okay." Someone hissed. It sounded remarkably like Frank.  
  
"I'm okay, Hawkeye, you can sleep in your own bunk tonight." She said. There was more terror in her voice than in that of Peter Lorre's when he woke up from the beating Bogie gave him and found blood on his new white shirt.  
  
"Tell him to go away." The voice hissed again.  
  
"Gah! You cut me! *Choke* I'm okay, please just go... I'll see you tomorrow morning..." I could hear her crying again, but this time there was genuine fear in her voice instead of hurt.   
  
"Please don't do this..." She choked out.  
  
" I.... Have.... No.... Choice." I noticed he had begun to cry now, but of course, his was out of hurt and anger. I had ruled it down to being Frank until I heard something peculiar come from Margaret.  
  
"Go back home and flounce around with your little tramp!" She spat lividly. I heard him slap her sharply across the face. That's when I snapped.  
  
I backed away from the door, hearing him point out my retreat; I then ran at my fastest pace and slammed my entire body into the door, breaking it down and perhaps my shoulder too.  
  
"Hawkeye, run!" Margaret shrieked. My jaw dropped at the sight of her captor. It was none other than her divorcée Major Donald Penobscott. He had her arm tweaked up behind her back; she winced in pain at the slightest movement. There was blood all over her nightshirt; he had nicked her flesh with the very knife that would soon find itself imbedded in my right thigh.  
  
"I told her to make you leave! Why are you here?!" He strained to piece together an intelligible sentence. He ran toward me. From the angle he arched the knife at, I saw all it's saw-blade like features. It made a nauseating tearing sound as it hit my right thigh with all the force of a bullet. I remember screaming and that's about it.   
  
I don't know if it was the next morning or the morning after that I finally greeted the post-op crew with a big Benjamin Franklin Pierce brand grin. Either way, I did, and my leg was still there, so all was swell. Margaret was eager to see that I was awake. She ran to my side, long blonde hair flowing modelishly behind her. I couldn't tell if it was the morphine or just me falling for her, but I liked it.  
  
"Are you okay, Margaret?" I asked, surprised at the hoarseness of my voice.  
  
"Am I okay? What about you?"  
  
"I'm okay. Just a little out of commission." I brushed her hair aside and couldn't help but tense up at the sight of the thirteen little sutures in her neck.  
  
"Did he try to cut your..." I began, quite offended.  
  
"Shh!" Margaret cut me off.  
  
Her chin trembled as she began to cry. She was a mess. She leaned over to me and let me hold her, not even wincing when I accidentally brushed her wound. "He came back last night and the night before at midnight exactly and told me, reminded me repeatedly not to tell or he's finish the job on both of us. I know he's coming back for me tonight."  
  
I couldn't stand to see her this way. The problem was I couldn't stand. Period. Exclamation point even.   
  
"Is that what he told you?" I asked, again brushing her tears away, this time fighting my own.  
  
"Worse."  
  
"How could this get any worse?" I exclaimed.  
  
"Shh! If anyone finds out, I'm... dead." She said this as though she were discovering it for the first time.  
  
I just happened to spot Radar wandering aimlessly by and so I decided to take action starting with the company clerk.  
  
"Radar! In here!" I called. He looked at me through the mesh screen as though he was in pain. I had to stifle a laugh in order to get what I wanted.  
  
"Not so loud, sir." He whined hoarsely.  
  
"Radar, can you get Blake in here?" I asked in a low whisper.  
  
"No!" Margaret began to panic. "No! Not Blake! Please! Not Blake!!!" She began to thrash around, looking for a quick escape.  
  
"Radar! Grab a hold of her!" I ordered. He winced, but did as I said.  
  
"Let go of me! Let go! I'll scream!!!" She threatened. Her eyes were wild with fear and fury at me, at Radar, at Donald, but especially at Frank.  
  
"It couldn't be any worse than what you are doing now." Radar cracked. "Sit still, Major!"  
  
I could tell that she'd had just about enough of everything, only because she elbowed poor Radar in the ribs and bolted out of Post-op.  
  
"Sorry, kid." I said. I didn't have to bother asking Trapper because he had already gone out the door after her.  
  
"That's the last time I hold a captive audience for you!" Radar wheezed.  
  
I got up from the bed and limped over to him and rubbed his belly. He looked at me like I had just performed a miracle.   
  
"It's called walking, Radar. The Neanderthals perfected it; I've almost got it down."  
  
"Sir, you shouldn't oughta get out of bed. That was a nasty stab wound."   
  
He had a point, but I really didn't have much time to care about it. I had Radar grab a pair of crutches from the supply, and I hobbled off to make sure Margaret was safe.  
  
"Hawkeye! You're gonna hurt yourself!" Radar yelled after me. I hobbled back over to him.  
  
"All you need to worry about is telling Colonel Blake that something potentially dangerous is going to happen to Margaret tonight at midnight."  
  
"Potentially dangerous?! Did Frank bust a spring?" He asked, genuinely concerned.  
  
"No. Not Frank. You'll find out all the details later tonight. Now go, and don't you dare tell anyone but Colonel Blake, got it?"  
  
He saluted proudly, that was all I needed...  
  
... "Thank god I found you." I breathed a deep sigh of relief and put my arms around her. I found her in my bunk, curled up on Trapper's bed. I sat down in a free space next to her.  
  
"I'm sorry Hawkeye. I really didn't mean to act that way. You've gotta understand how scared I am. You do, don't you?"  
  
"Am I human?" I remarked, and I should have known that sarcasm wasn't the right way to go yet. She bowed her head. "Sorry." I said, slightly embarrassed.   
  
"No. Don't be. I just want to stay in here tonight with you."  
  
"Are you sure he won't come looking for you? And what about Frank? He'll throw a huge tizzy."  
  
"I DON'T CARE!" She cried with her face in the pillow. "Let that son of a bitch throw a fit! He hurt me over simple civics, damn it!"   
  
"Okay, honey, I get it." I comforted her like a good little Captain. Things would have been better had I known Donald was listening close by...  
The Second and Final Part Coming Soon!  



	2. Conclusion

Dreaming of a Brand New Day: The Conclusion  
  
Eventually Margaret and I fell asleep together, not realizing we were being watched, or that Frank came into the room and tore things to hell. Nothing mattered to Margaret anymore, and I figured that if I held on long enough, maybe she'd be okay. It takes time for things like this to go away.  
  
I shivered, compliments of the cold morning, and realized that Margaret had gone.  
  
"Radar!" I called. I knew that anywhere he was, he could hear me. There was just a way about him.  
  
"Major Houlihan is gone and you want me to page her to the Colonel's office." He poked his head through the door and mystically read.  
  
"How do you do that?" I asked, slack jawed in amazement.  
  
He simply shrugged and wiped the sweat from his brow. It may have been cold outside, but if you worked as hard as Radar, you'd sweat too.  
  
~***~  
  
"What do you think you are going to accomplish by doing this to me? Answer me!" Margaret argued. She tested the ropes that bound her hands several times, every time a complete disappointment. She, Donald and Frank sat in a field about a mile from base. Frank never looked her way once.  
  
"I think I'm going to put you out of my misery." Donald pouted.  
  
"Donald, please rethink this."  
  
"Why'd you let me go?" Frank finally spoke.  
  
"WHY DID I LET YOU GO?! You are asking me of all people why I let you go."  
  
"Yeah." He said, scooting closer to her.  
  
"You broke my heart because I stood up for Hawkeye when I knew he was right. Clear, Major?"  
  
"Crystal." He whispered in her ear, trying to turn her on.  
  
"And you, Donald, do you have any stupid questions?" She asked bitterly, shoving Frank away.  
  
"It never surprises me that no matter how much I hate you, I still find you so alluring." Donald replied in monotone. His eyes were cold as ice as they moved over her body.  
  
~***~  
  
"Uh, Hawkeye, Trapper, sirs, I have zeroed in on Margaret, and I'm afraid Frank's in on all of it." Radar regretfully announced, wringing his cap in his hands.  
  
"You can see all this?" I asked.  
  
"Uh, no, sirs, a chopper passed over and the pilot kinda tattled." I saw him lighten up and smile a little, and for once that really didn't help. "Sorry sirs."  
  
"I knew it! Frank was in on it the whole time. Donald almost killed Margaret. I wouldn't be surprised if he takes his orders from old Ferret Face himself." Trapper ranted. "The nerve of that weasel!"  
  
"Radar, out of curiosity, why were you staggering and acting intoxicated a few nights ago? We know that your Nehi was virgin." I asked.  
  
"That's what I thought too. Donald had the bartender slip some of your morphine into my drink." He was pretty sure of himself.  
  
"How'd you find this out?" Trapper asked, somewhat miffed.  
  
"I just know. Do I ask you how you delve into people day after day?"  
  
"Hey, now." I warned.  
  
"Oops." He lifted a hand to his mouth and blushed.  
  
"That's better. I'll meet you in the office a half-hour from now. Make sure to..."  
  
"Load a gun."  
  
"Tell me, Radar, who has a crush on me?" I asked sarcastically.  
  
"You give a guy some info and they treat you like you're a ouija board. Sheesh." He walked out of the swamp a little miffed, but if I knew the kid, he'd blow off some steam and be okay.  
  
Trapper and I sat in silence as though we were contemplating the answer to poverty. I was about to break the silence when Radar and his impeccable timing caught our attention. We were caught off guard from our contemplation with a sharp squeal coming from the general direction of the office, and then a shot rang through the atmosphere.  
  
"HAWKEYE!!!!" Radar shrieked. "NO, FRANK NO! NO!!!!!!!" He sounded as though he was in pain and in shock. I heard him struggling and silently I bid him fight on.  
  
I ran, um, hobbled as quickly as gravity and pain tolerance would allow to the office, Trapper about three feet ahead of me.  
  
"Radar... Where are you?" Trapper yelled as he went into the office before me. I heard Trapper fall, the air being knocked out of him on contact with the floor. I was sure he had tripped over a body.  
  
"Blake's office! I think I just killed someone..." He tried to yell back, but everything came out in squeaks, hisses and gurgles. We feared the worst. That's just what we got. I turned on the light behind Trapper and found Radar sitting pallid against the wall farthest away from Trapper and I. Frank lay dead at his feet. I didn't dare look at Radar's wounds yet for fear of screaming or being sick. Trapper helped me flip Frank over onto his back. Radar always did have superb aim. Poor Frank. He died with a bullet to the ego and one between his eyes too. The gun was still clutched in Radar's hand. He held onto it for dear life, and because he was paralyzed by pain.  
  
Trapper got to the poor kid before I did. I checked to make good and sure Frank was really dead.  
  
"How is he Trapper?" I said, still avoiding turning around.  
  
"You are gonna have to look at this. I can't make out the extent of the damage."  
  
I turned and my nightmare unfolded before my eyes. There he sat, Trapper beside him with a death grip on the carotid artery that was still in tact. That was the only reason that blood hadn't gotten anywhere but all over Radar, on the gun, on Trapper, on the wall and on the Colonel's desk. It looked like Frank had done digital incisions on Radar's throat. As I worked, I had to fight back nausea with every burst of metallic scented air that hit my face through the new opening.  
  
He was still awake; we had no choice but to keep him that way. The bright side was that he was so deep in shock he felt nothing. In three hours time, an eternity to the patient, we had everything stitched up. Nurse after nurse passed out at the sight of the mangled kid, which made me miss Margaret's presence even more. Her compassion drowned out her fear. The only thing that told us he was alive was when he immediately clutched at his teddy bear once delivered into his arms.  
  
We were relieved that Colonel Blake hadn't been around at that time; otherwise we'd likely have two stiffs on our hands.  
  
~***~  
  
"Margaret, did Frank tell you where he was going? Y'know, I really didn't notice he had gone until now."  
  
She didn't answer; she only stared at the horizon, wishing she were back at base with my arms wrapped tightly around her, and they would have been too. She knew somehow that Frank wasn't coming back. Donald had been physical with Margaret ever since he'd taken her hostage early that morning. He'd do little things that not only annoyed her, but also scared her to death.  
  
"I what was it that Frank did that made you leave him?"  
  
"That is none of your damn business, and I'll thank you to stay out of my personal affairs." She quipped.  
  
"Why is it that I still find you so beautiful? I have a Hawaiian beauty back in the states waiting for me."  
  
"Because you used to be human." Margaret explained bitterly. "I'll thank you as well not to rub your cheap affair in my face." She found out soon enough that it wasn't wise to upset the man at this point in time. He hit her across the face yet again, leaving her this time with a split lip. She didn't cry, only gingerly testing the wound with her tongue. -Army girls never cried in the face of danger- She decided bravely.  
  
~***~  
  
"What in the hell happened here?" Colonel Blake hollered angrily as he saw the mess in his office. "Radar!" He called. There was no answer. He ran to post-op, seeing if maybe he was helping do rounds. He never expected to see the nurses helping the doctors to do their rounds on him. They had just taken the dressings off to replace them, so Col. Blake got a clear view. It looked like someone had tried to operate with the dull edge of a butter knife.  
  
"Mother of Pearl." Blake whispered. "Who did that?" He asked, tears filling his glassy blue eyes.  
  
"You really wanna know?" Trapper asked. I was too busy watching over Radar to really care if even General Macarthur waltzed in. Blake nodded hesitantly, noting the different tone in Trapper's voice.  
  
"Frank." Trapper whispered.  
  
"FRANK?!" Blake exploded. "Where the hell is he! I'll have him hanged!!!!!!"  
  
"I'm afraid Radar got a hold of him before he could have done anything else. Never knew until today that he was a sharpshooter."  
  
"I knew he loved John Wayne, I just didn't know he could shoot like him." Blake mumbled. "Where is he? I'd like to see him."  
  
"Radar or Frank?" Trapper asked.  
  
"Frank first. I want to see if he's in suitable shape to be shipped home." Blake said, feeling suddenly empty.  
  
He looked Frank over and determined that all it would take was a little bit of clever make-up work and he'd be just fine. On to Radar.  
  
"Are you alright, kiddo?" Blake said, chin trembling. "Of course you aren't. Look at you."  
  
Trapper leaned over to Blake and simply said: "That was done without a weapon." Blake's eyes rolled back into his head and he pitched forward onto the floor, cold unconscious.  
  
Radar tried to speak to Blake, but sounds refused to come forth. No huge shock on my part.  
  
"Shh. If you want those to work ever again, you need to not even try. I'm real sorry this had to happen." I said.  
  
Radar nodded. I wouldn't have felt so guilty if he'd have been able to say even 'okay, sirs.' He was sitting up, he'd insisted on being no other way, which made it impossible for him to sleep. Every time he'd doze his head would topple forward, putting him in agony, and it was another few hours wide awake.  
  
We found later that Radar was just a pit stop in Frank's destruction drag- rally. Father Mulcahy found Klinger in his bunk with torn dresses strewn everywhere and a severe compound fracture to the arm. Nurse Kellye didn't make it through Frank's rage.  
  
Father Mulcahy found her as well, broken necked, but underneath a station in the very procedure room we pieced Radar back together in. We went to Father Mulcahy's Midnight Mass that same night as a memorial and prayer service to Frank, Nurse Kellye, Radar and Klinger.  
  
Though Father Mulcahy was supposed to be strong through these times, he couldn't keep himself together, especially at remembering the sight of finding Klinger and Kellye. He held onto his podium for balance, had he let go, his legs would have gone out on him.  
  
Trapper and Blake stood behind him for support, shocked yet sympathetic at the Father's sudden lapse of weakness.  
  
"Today has been a day that I would love to forget, but that won't be happening very soon." Father Mulcahy began. "We are here to celebrate the Memory of Nurse Kellye, to pray for the rapid healing of Corporals O'Reilly and Klinger's wounds, and to pray as well for the quick return of our beloved Major Margaret Houlihan." He spared the façade, fresh tears dripping down his blessed cheeks so pale. "We are here to say goodbye to Major Frank Burns. He was a stern man, one of strict morals, and one who was ready to serve when called for. We wish him farewell."  
  
I admit, though I was looked at as a pillar of strength of sorts, I had to have been crying the hardest. Nurse Kellye was a beautiful, vibrant woman. She helped me see that. I was relieved to find that Radar was too intent on doing his clerical work to let go. Klinger on the other hand thought he was going to die and in fact welcomed it if that meant he was going to be immediately discharged.  
  
I knew that Nurse Kellye had been in heaven. There was no way around that. An earth-bound angel had nowhere to go but up. Frank on the other hand had t o have been in purgatory. Where he would have a lot of time to think about what he did to the people who might have grown to care for him. Might have.  
  
Just as the sermon was beginning to pull a dark cloud over all attending, Radar entered the chapel. He kept his Balance by leaning on Igor. There was one thing I didn't understand about Igor. How was it that he could have spent so much time preparing mess tent food and be fine, but see someone resembling a walking corpse and nearly pass out?  
  
I was shocked, angry, saddened and joyful all at once. The whole room gasped. All Radar wanted was to say goodbye to Nurse Kellye, and even to pray for Klinger. He had no idea that his wounds had seeped, making his problem look a thousand times worse.  
  
"Sweet mother Mary!" Father Mulcahy almost screamed. He regained his holy strength and rushed over to Radar, allowing Igor to sit before he fell.  
  
Radar put all his weight on the father, which really wasn't much.  
  
"What are you doing out of bed, my son?" He asked, kindly.  
  
"I want..." Radar mouthed, stopping shortly to lull the pain away. "to say goodbye."  
  
I approached Radar and helped Father Mulcahy lead him to the open casket. He latched onto the edge and looked in. He seemed to go a lighter shade of pale. One shade I thought it was impossible to achieve.  
  
"Are you alright, Radar?" I asked. I kept a hand in the small of his back, a preventative measure.  
  
"Sad." He simply mouthed. Tears filled his eyes, but there was more to it than that. There was something in his eyes that almost scared me. Father Mulcahy saw it too.  
  
I saw Radar's head turn slightly, almost like the reaction of an animal's ear to sound. I was too busy mourning with the rest, however, to hear. He couldn't very well have screamed for their attention, and so he did what he could. He waved his arms madly to catch everyone's attention.  
  
"What is it, Radar?" Father Mulcahy urged.  
  
"I just heard gunfire!" He mouthed. Had there been a side of sound with this large order of silence, he would have been speaking so fast that he might as well have been speaking in Morse code.  
  
Father Mulcahy gripped his shoulders: "Slow down." He urged. Radar became frustrated to the point of fury. He cocked back and slapped the Father full across the face, looking at him as though to say, "Okay, now read carefully."  
  
"I just..." Father said aloud as he read, "heard gunfire." He sat, deep in thought, then his eyes began to glow as though God himself tapped him on the shoulder and said: "Here you go."  
  
"Are you saying that the gunshot might lead us to Major Houlihan?" He said excitedly.  
  
Radar nodded so enthusiastically that he could have ripped a suture, and the pebbles surely would have fallen out.  
  
"What are we waiting for, men? Let's go!" Colonel Blake boomed  
  
~***~  
  
"Where the hell is Frank?! I think you had something to do with this!" Donald started pacing madly. He stopped abruptly in front of Margaret, aiming and touching the rifle's double barrel to her forehead. He loaded a shell into the chambers, the sound alone made her jump.  
  
"I swear, Donald, I had nothing to do with this... Please don't do this..." She cried, more desperate than she had ever been. This was the first time she had spoken to him for hours. The results of her comebacks and quips had been a solid black eye.  
  
"SHUT-UP! I know you, you conniving bitch! You got to him. YOU TOLD HIM TO BLOW IT!"  
  
Margaret knew that this was potentially her last few moments in Korea. She wished she were back at base with my arms wrapped tightly around her. And they would have too. She began to hyperventilate, tiny spots developing before her eyes. She fell to her side, trembling and weeping. This caught Donald off guard, it scared him. He tilted the gun upwards and away from her head in a knee-jerk reaction, accidentally setting off the hair trigger.  
  
The shot grazed her scalp; the pain was enough to make her scream, yet the bleeding wasn't bad enough to kill her. A nice combination. She stayed in her lying position, her head aching fiercely. She silently thanked God for what she stubbornly called luck. As in she was lucky Radar heard the shot...  
  
~***~  
  
The 4077th marched on through the field, ready for a brawl.  
  
~***~  
  
"I wish... I wish..." Margaret muttered, stuck in a trance. She could have sworn she saw me coming toward her through the field, but she didn't trust her sanity any longer. "Is that you, Hawkeye?" She said. I got to her, undoing her ropes and washing the blood from her face.  
  
"Margaret, are you okay?" She looked at me like she was stuck in a box, meaning she could see my lips moving but she couldn't hear me speak. Seconds later she passed out in my arms. Donald began ranting again, pacing.  
  
"YOU AGAIN?! WHY ARE ALL OF YOU HERE?" Donald ran toward me, aiming the gun at the center of my chest. Another loud pop, much like the first, rang through the atmosphere. At first I thought I was shot, but after a thorough exam with no results, I had Colonel Blake take my place, holding Margaret just as tight as I had been. Donald lay dead a few feet away; a shot to the forehead took him out. It was done just as quickly as it began.  
  
I got up from the ground, walking toward the base, and there stood Radar, being held up by some magical force. He held the .45 pistol in his right hand. I knew that at that very second, Frank was damning, and Nurse Kellye was praising the hero.  
  
The End 


End file.
